22. Isla #2
“Potatoes!” Kenna and Aisling cried at once before breaking into giggles.
“They’re going to be cleaning up that mess for hours,” Jo said. “I don’t think anyone’s getting out of there any time soon.”
I pressed my hand to my temple, grimacing.
If Locke was stuck in the traffic behind the overturned truck, that meant he’d left even later than he’d said he would.
I whipped out my phone to message him, finding a text.
I hadn’t even heard it come through with all of Aisling and Kenna’s shrieking during the race.
“Is that from him?” Lena asked, setting Kenna down and taking her hand.
I read it quickly. “Yeah, he says the motorway basically looks like a car park, and he doesn’t know when it’s going to clear up.”
Jo sighed. “Bested by potatoes. Guess I better look for someone else to cover his judging duties.”
“I’m so sorry, Jo,” I said, genuinely feeling horrible as I responded to Locke, telling him to drive safe.
“Well, don’t look at me,” Lena said as Jo’s head snapped in her direction. “I did the haggis tasting last year, and we all remember how that went.”
“I can do it!” Aisling insisted, blinking up at Jo with wide, eager eyes.
“Sweetheart,” Lena hedged, “I don’t think you’re going to like most of it.”
“It’s a lot of food,” Jo said, intrigued by the idea. “You think you can handle it?”
Aisling nodded solemnly. “I’m starving, I promise.”
“You just ate a cookie,” I pointed out.
Lena rolled her eyes as Jo reached for Aisling’s hand. “This isn’t going to go well, Jo,” she warned. “She’ll just end up spitting everything out.”
Jo smirked. “It’s good to shake things up a little. And keep everyone honest. I’ve long suspected some of the contestants are buying their votes.”
“Now this I’ve got to see,” I said, deliberately choosing to set my frustration aside.
So what if Locke was stuck on the motorway?
Why should that stop me from enjoying myself?
I followed them all toward the judging tent, prepared to take one hundred photos of Aisling wrinkling her nose at everyone’s dishes.
As we approached, I could smell honey-glazed pork, and my stomach grumbled. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a taste tester, but I sure as hell couldn’t wait to get my hands on one of the fancy sausage rolls being sold by the Highland Sausage Company.
“Hello, love!”
Dad stepped out of the crowd, arms open wide, and caught me in a hug.
I wrapped my arms around him, waving Lena on. “I wondered when we’d run into each other,” I said, pulling back. Dad never missed the festival if he could help it. “We were just heading over for the food competitions. I’ve got to take some photos.”
“Ah, yes. I’m waiting to hear what Locke thinks about this pickled haggis, smoked mackerel concoction everyone’s been talking about.” He glanced around as if expecting to see him over my shoulder. “Where is he?”
Frustration itched in the space between my shoulder blades.
Not here! I wanted to shout. Obviously! But that wouldn’t be fair.
It wasn’t as if Dad had any way of knowing what had happened with Locke.
I swallowed down as much of my irritation as I could.
“He spent too long at the office, and now he’s stuck in traffic. ”
“Ah, too bad,” Dad said, his arm curling around my shoulders as we wandered toward the judging tent. “But sometimes the work needs to get done.”
I jerked at Dad’s words. “That’s why we schedule these things months in advance, isn’t it?
” I pointed out through clenched teeth. “So people can clear their desks ahead of time. He was actually supposed to be here last night, but he postponed leaving until this morning. And now he’s stuck behind some overturned produce truck or whatever. ”
“That’s all right, love,” Dad said. “These things happen.”
“It’s not all right, though.” I studied Dad’s expression.
He’d managed to find the time to be here, so why was he acting like it was expected that Locke would miss it?
“By the time he gets here, the festival will be over! Plus, he volunteered for the haggis judging. If he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it, I wish he wouldn’t have bothered signing up.
It’s not fair to Jo to have to cover that at the last second. ”
Dad rubbed my shoulder but seemed largely unfazed by my frustration. “I’m sure they’ll find someone else.”
I huffed, smoothing my sweaty hair out of my face. “That’s not the point.”
“Don’t be upset with him.” Dad hugged me closer. “You should be proud being with someone that works so hard.”
Are you kidding me? A pulse beat in my temple. It wasn’t just frustration anymore. Now I was angry.
“I know I gave him a hard time when we first met,” Dad continued, “but even if I wasn’t sure he was right for you, I still respected him as a businessman. Locke goes after what the company needs, and he’s proven to be a savvy operator.”
What the hell did that have to do with him being late?
“All of that means he’s a good provider,” Dad finished.
At that, my anger boiled over. “There are more important things than being a good provider!” I snapped.
Was this what I had to look forward to from Locke for the rest of my life?
Years of broken promises because the company needed something?
I’d lived that song and dance for the first chunk of my life, and I wasn’t interested in doing it again.
Dad looked genuinely baffled. “I can’t think of what could possibly be more important,” he said. “Love, it means he wants to take care of you. And that’s something I can support.”
No! I thought. Locke wanted to take care of his real child—Fraser Developments.
I remembered Claire’s words from all those weeks ago.
I thought the business was your baby. You certainly fussed over it like it was.
Tears welled behind my eyes, and it took every ounce of my self-control to keep them from falling.
“Showing up for the people who are relying on you,” I said, voice rough. “That’s what’s more important.”
Dad laughed a bit, shaking his head. “All this fuss over a silly contest. Again, love, I’m sure Jo’s got a list a mile long of volunteers that can step in.”
He wasn’t getting it. He never would.
I blinked hard, deflating as I was led through the crowd. A numbness settled over me. Even now, with me shouting it in his face, Dad didn’t see anything wrong with Locke letting me down. Just like Dad didn’t think he’d done anything wrong by not showing up for me and Mom for so many years.
And he probably never would.
It was time for me to give up on waiting for an apology—for understanding—that would never come. Because Dad was the guy who would always prioritize work first, and he would never see that as a problem.
But I’d really hoped Locke was different. When he said he wanted me, that he wanted to do this co-parenting thing, I’d actually believed he’d be there for us.
I believed I’d be a priority.
But maybe I’d been wrong about him. Maybe he was exactly like my dad.